


Crutchy and the Kitten Tree

by Beth Harker (Beth_Harker)



Category: Newsies (1992)
Genre: Canon Era, Fluff, Gen, Nothing could be more gen, gen - Freeform, originally written in 2014, this version is revised a bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 03:07:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14946456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beth_Harker/pseuds/Beth%20Harker
Summary: David and Crutchy team up to rescue a trapped kitten.





	Crutchy and the Kitten Tree

David didn’t usually sell around central park.  The sheer amount of people meant that you could be sure to get rid of a pape or three, but too many newsies tried it, and David wasn’t exactly one of the best.  Not that he was terrible at it or anything, but he he didn’t have anything special going for him to help him sell to somebody who didn’t want a pape anyway.  He wasn’t a filthy kid with a cowboy hat and a wide smile, who made up words with a skill that, while not quite Shakespearian, was certainly infectious, nor was he a little kid or sick, or anybody who would manage to stand out of the crowd.  He was just himself, with his shirt buttoned one spot too high to communicate true financial desperation (even if it did exist), and no particular talent for making up fake headlines that didn’t sound like (as Jack put it) he was mocking the customer.   
   
That said, on this particular spring day, David was wandering around central park, making a tidy profit, and half wishing that he wasn’t just so he could tell Jack he’d told him so.  There was a tulip festival of some kind going on all over the park, and the papers had printed information about it.  David had groaned at the headline, which was hardly the kind of blood and guts stuff that people usually wanted to hear from them, and Jack had just laughed and led them here, all the while gushing poetic about the glory of tulips.   
   
Ever since then David had been making his rounds through the park, and hardly having to call out the headlines.  Old men were just wandering up to him, asking him questions about tulips as if he’d know anything about them, listening to his adlibbed descriptions of bees aiding in pollination and reproduction, and then buying pape after pape.  Somebody had even bought three, for the pictures he said, though David wanted to believe that his excellent description of photosynthesis had played a hand.   
   
Jack had been right.  _So_ right.  David could practically kill him for it.   
   
Thirty-seven minutes and fifty papes into selling, David happened upon Crutchy, who leaning against his crutch and staring up at a nearby tree with great interest.   
   
The tree was not a tulip tree.  Of course, the main reason that it _wasn’t_ a tulip tree was that tulips did not and never had grown on trees, but that did nothing to change the fact that a tree was a highly irrelevant thing to be staring at.  Furthermore, Crutchy was doing nothing to protect his papers, which lay in a heap behind him.   
   
The tree was meowing.  
   
“Heya Dave!” Crutchy said as David approached, his face splitting into a grin so wide that it practically reached around the back of his head.  “Davey, Davey, listen, up there in the tree.  D’ya hear that?”   
   
“I did a second ago.  It seems to have quieted down.”  David took another few steps closer, squinting at the brightness of the sky as he tried to peer through the branches and the thick greenery above him.  He held up his free hand to shield his eyes. 

Crutchy elbowed him, and let out a soft mewing sound of his own.  The tree meowed back.  This was repeated about four times, until David was sure that every passerby had to be staring at them and wondering if they’d completely lost their minds.   
   
“You have a try, Dave.  Could be he’ll like you.  Little guys been hidin’ from me.”  
   
“I don’t know,” David said.  It was always hard to refuse anything that Crutchy asked for, because he asked so nicely, and it was never much.  That said, David still had papers to sell. What could meowing at a tree possibly accomplish? Crutchy’s smile was almost comically expectant, but the tips of David’s ears going red at the mere thought of making that noise.  “It seems to like… talking…. with you.  I mean, you’ve been out here a while, right?”   
   
Crutchy nodded.   
   
“So,” David continued, relieved to have thought up such a good excuse on the spot, “It’d stand to reason that the cat’s gotten to know you a bit.”  
   
Another nod.   
   
“I might scare it,” David finished.  Crutchy laughed and clapped him across the back.   
   
“Nah.  C’mon, don’t be so hard on yourself.  You’s just about the least scary person I know.  The other guys, they’s real nice, but if they wanna be scary they can, you know?  Now you, you’re real nice, not… what is it Race said?  Intimidating!  Yeah, you ain’t intimidating at all, even to a little scardy cat like our friend up in that tree there.”   
   
“…Oh.” David knew Crutchy meant it as a compliment, but it wasn’t the most flattering one he’d ever received.  For a split second he considered proving Crutchy wrong by making the angriest cat noises he could muster, but that was even more ridiculous than just making ordinary cat noises.   
   
“Go on.”  Crutchy nudged him.   
   
Sighing, David let out a monotone, barely audible meow.   
   
The little face that popped out of the leaves to return it was fluffy, grey, and just ragged enough to be thoroughly adorable.   
   
“Told ya the kitty’d like you,” Crutchy whispered.  “Try again.”   
   
This time David complied without argument.  For a second the kitten reared back as if preparing to jump out of the tree, but a look at the sidewalk below seemed to have it thinking better of it.  It let out several high and pitiful yowls.   
“How you think he got all the way up there?”  Crutchy asked.  
   
“Climbed.  He must have been chasing a bird or something.”   
   
“He wouldn’t want to hurt a bird.  He’s only little.”   
   
“Yes he would.  Cats are predatory.  They’ll kill anything smaller than them given half a chance.  Probably serves him right to be stuck up there.”  
   
Crutchy gave David the most reproachful look imaginable, the kind of look that was more than enough to make David feel bad for having ever opened his mouth, even if he only had been speaking the truth.  He shifted nervously, adjusted his bundle of newspapers so they sat more firmly on his shoulder.  
   
“Jack and Les will wonder why I didn’t sell anything today if I don’t hurry up,” David explained.  More likely than not Jack and Les were already finished, and he didn’t want to have to explain to them that he’d wasted an easy selling day trying to communicate in kitten language.   
   
“He’s probably real lonely up there,” Crutchy said, as David was leaving.  “Got lost playin’ or somewhat, and now he don’t got any idea where his mom and pop are.  Probably ain’t got a friend in the world.”   
   
“It’s a cat,” David said.  “It doesn’t know who its pop is anyway.  Cats aren’t exactly known for their fidelity, you know.  Besides, they’re good at taking care of themselves.”   
   
Another look from Crutchy.  David put down his papes. The way Crutchy had described the kitten could’ve applied to a lot of the news boys of Manhattan – sure, they’d all had parents somewhere down the line, but they’d lost them somehow or gotten stuck somewhere, and really they _were_ often lonely, not that most of them would ever say so.   
   
“Hey Davey, d’ya think you could…”   
   
“Fine.  Fine, I’ll do it.”   
   
David had never climbed a tree before.  He’d read enough books to know that tree climbing was a sign of a healthy exuberant young boy, and that surely he should have given it a try earlier than now, but it had never come up before.  The tree or two on the street by his house were uninspiring at best, grim mockeries of the word “tree” at worst, and climbing in central park was prohibited by law (not that that was stopping him now.).   
   
Even so, nearly a year of carrying his papes far and wide across the city had added strength to his limbs that had never been there before, and he got on tolerably well in spite of a certain lack of balance.   
   
“C’mon, just a little higher!” Crutchy encouraged below him.   
   
“Meow meow meow MEOW meeeeeeow meow meow,” the kitten encouraged from above.   
   
David hoped that it was a girl kitten, so he could explain to Jack later that he’d rescued a damsel in distress… let him know that he could improve the truth too when he really wanted to.  
   
The branches were getting smaller as David got higher up on the tree.  One snapped beneath his feet as he clamored up onto the one above it, and David had to stay where he was for several seconds while the pounding in his heart calmed down.   
   
Two branches more, and his face was on level with the kitten.  David spoke softly to it until it came over and nuzzled his cheek, and even he had to admit that that little gesture was extremely gratifying.  With that he tucked the kitten into his vest, and contemplated how to get down.   
   
The problem was, he could completely see why the act of getting out of the tree had initially scared the kitten.  Looking down at the branches it seemed like a wonder that they had held David’s weight at all.  Jumping was an option, but not a very good one – it’d probably mean broken legs.   
   
In the end David settled for lowering himself very slowly and carefully without looking down.  It wasn’t terrible, and nothing more harrowing than a few snapped twigs befell him, but by the time he’d finished David had already firmly resolved not to make tree climbing a new hobby, or to say anything that would encourage Les to give it a try.  The chances that Les would break his neck if he ever went _near_ a tree were somewhere close to 100 percent.  
   
“How’s the kitty?” Crutchy asked, once David’s feet were finally on the ground.  
   
“Purring.  You’re right, it really did want to get down from there.”   
   
“I knew it!” Crutchy said, and somehow he was the only one who could speak those words and not seem like he was gloating at all, just genuinely happy to have done a good thing.   David removed the kitten from his vest, holding it so Crutchy could stroke its soft fur.  He hadn’t realized just how small it was… more rat-sized than cat-sized really, definitely too little to be out on its own.   
   
“What are we going to do with it?” David asked.  He didn’t think his parents would like it if he came home with a pet.  
   
“D’ya want it?”   
   
“Not really,” David admitted.  The kitten seemed very fond of Crutchy… it kept inclining its head towards wherever Crutchy’s fingers were, in order to keep him petting it.   
   
Crutchy laughed, clapped him on the shoulder, and then reached out to give David’s free hand a good shake.  
   
“Gee, that’s perfect Davey.  I was just thinkin’ he seems like an awfully nice cat and…”   
   
“I’ll help you get it back to the lodge,” David offered.   
   
“You’re a real pal,” Crutchy said, and the two of them walked off together.   
   
And yes, David still had far too many papers left over, and he’d lost what could have been an easy selling day, but he wasn’t too worried.  He’d just have to stay out late trying to get rid of his papes like he did every day, and he’d exhaust himself walking as did every day, but Crutchy would have a new friend and the cat would have a new home. The morning had not been wasted.


End file.
